


Jeremy's First Kill

by Wrespawn



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Conflict Resolution, Gen, Gun Violence, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Protective Michael Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn
Summary: Jeremy’s first firefight with the Fakes isn’t one they planned.A respawn-verse story that takes place not long after How Jeremy Met the Fakes and notably before Respawn.Warnings: Gun violence, including the death of unnamed characters, described in brief but gory detail.  Panic attack induced vomiting.  This story contains an angry and physical confrontation between friends, although it ends in resolution.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 154





	Jeremy's First Kill

“Aw, _beans!”_

Gavin lowered his gun with a pitiful huff while Michael and Jeremy sipped beers and watched.Across the ruined lot was the concrete skeleton of a long-abandoned gas station, windows broken and doors long gone. Beer cans balanced on the window sill, untouched by Gavin’s bullets.

“You know, Gavin,” Jeremy drawled, “I’m no expert, but you might hit the target more if you weren’t holding your gun _upside down._”

“I mean, sure, if I wanted to be _boring.”_

Jeremy raised his own gun and fired three times. All three cans flew off the window and disappeared into the depths of the gas station.

Gavin let out a pitiful whine. “Aww, weak! Now I’ve gotta set them up again!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be such a shitty shot,” Jeremy said calmly, reloading his gun.

Michael snickered. “Yeah, bitch, go set up the cans again.”

Jeremy downed the dregs of his beer and tossed the can. Gavin scrambled to catch it.

“Got another one for you.”

Gavin glowered but slunk off all the same, beer can in hand. He spun his gun once around his finger before flicking the safety on and slipping it in his belt.

Jeremy fished a new beer out of the cooler and cracked it open. “Michael, I’m starting to understand why the crew bullies him.”

Michael smiled. “Hey,” he whispered, “you wanna hear a secret?”

“Hit me.”

“Gavin’s a damn good shot.” Michael hid his words behind his beer can. “He just has more fun failing at ambitious shit than succeeding at mundane shit. If he was actually trying, he’d be making every shot and he’d get bored. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Shit, really?”

“Yeah. You wanna know why we bully him? He’s down for it.” Michael thumped a light punch against Jeremy’s arm. “So if you tell him I complimented him, I’ll deny it.”

“Heh. Gotcha.”

Gavin popped up in the gas station window like a meerkat. “Oi, Michael! You think this would be a good spot for a bit of Murder?”

Jeremy snorted into his drink, nearly spraying it over his face. He coughed once. “I’m sorry, what?”

Michael looked around, unconvinced. He strolled towards the ruined building, rotating as he walked to take in their surroundings. 

“Hm, it’s pretty open for that.”

“That’s the challenge!”

Jeremy followed with a confused frown. “What are you guys talking about?”

“It’s a game the crew plays sometimes.” Michael shrugged. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Jeremy sipped his beer, unconvinced.

Gavin leaped through the broken window with beer cans in hand. He arranged them on the sill in a neat row, then turned around proudly.

“Let’s have another go. If I make a shot upside down, you’ve gotta buy me a drink, Jeremy.”

A flicker of movement drew Jeremy’s gaze from Gavin’s face to his chest. A red dot was quivering over his heart like a restless insect.

Jeremy could feel the wind drive out of Gavin’s chest as he slammed them both to the ground. A sniper bullet crunched into the wall where Gavin had been standing.

Michael snarled a curse and lifted his gun, firing back. Jeremy pulled himself off Gavin, looking him over for injury.

“A-are you oka—“

A firm hand yanked on his arm, hauling him to his feet.

“Get in the building!” Michael was still firing as he dragged Jeremy through the door. “_Now!”_

Jeremy stumbled after him, his limbs struggling to obey. He could hear the harsh bang of bullets as Gavin fired at unseen targets.

When the shadows of the old gas station swallowed them, Michael shoved Jeremy against the wall beside the door. 

_“Stay! _Keep your gun out!_”_

Jeremy nodded shakily, clutching his gun. He could hear bullets crunching against the other side of the wall that he was pressed against.

“Bloody Skeptics!” Gavin was pressed on the other side of the door, reloading his pistol. “Hate these bastards!”

Michael leaned around the door frame and fired. “Where’d these cowards get the balls to open fire on us?”

“Damn if I know! How many?”

“I count one sniper and five grunts.” Michael fired another shot through the door. “Four grunts.”

Movement flickered in the corner of Jeremy’s eye. His gaze snapped to the back wall of the gas station. A man in a ski mask was peering through the back window, his head just visible above the broken glass.

Like a beer can.

Jeremy lifted his gun without thinking and pulled the trigger.

_BANG_

The man slumped over the window frame, limp arm dangling. Jeremy’s gun seemed to lower in slow motion. It didn’t make a the same noise as a beer can. No metallic ting, just a wet heavy _thunk._

“Sniper’s on the hill!” Michael’s voice felt distant. “I’m reloading, Gav, cover me!”

With one hand, Gavin leaned around the door frame and fired a few shots at the distant hill. With his other hand, he slipped a golden pistol out of his belt. When he ducked back behind the wall, he closed his eyes, held the pistol in front of his lips like a hushing finger, and took a deep breath.

“Jeremy!”

Jeremy jolted at the sound of his name. Michael winced as another sniper bullet whizzed through the open door.

“You still in one piece?”

Numbly, Jeremy nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good, keep your fucking head down. We’re gonna get you home.”

Gavin opened his eyes. He leaned out the door and fired one shot. When the bang finished echoing, no more sniper shots followed it. With a satisfied breath, Gavin slipped his gun away.

“Got him.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

Michael frowned. He stepped into the open doorway.

Jeremy’s heart jumped into his throat. “M-Michael—!”

No more bullets came. Michael put his hands on hips. “Yep, sniper’s dead.” He strode out of the building, and Jeremy heard the thump of a boot meeting a corpse. “Oh yeah, that’s the Skeptics all right. I don’t think they’ve got the subtlety to stay quiet, we probably got all of ‘em.”

Jeremy let out a long, shaking breath. He turned to Gavin. “Are you—“

Gavin slammed him against the concrete wall. Jeremy grunted at the impact.

“What did you bloody do that for!” Gavin was nearly yelling the words, his hands fisted in Jeremy’s shirt. “Jumping in front of a shot like that, you could’ve died! Next time there’s gunfire, get the _fuck_ down!”

Adrenaline twisted into fury. Jeremy grabbed Gavin’s shirt, giving him a substantially harder shove than Gavin had given him.

“You’re fucking welcome and I’m not sorry!”

“You could have _died_!”

“What was I supposed to do, let you get shot?”

“Yes!” Gavin’s voice was cracking. “Yes you were!”

Michael shoved between the two of them, one strong arm braced against each chest to push them apart.

“_Enough._” Michael’s gaze bored into Gavin like a drill. “Gavin, look at him. He’s breathing. He’s okay. And he just went through his first firefight, don’t fucking yell at him.”

Gavin’s fists clenched, but his words seemed to catch in his throat. Jeremy’s scowl didn’t soften. In a blink, Gavin slipped past Michael’s arm and pulled Jeremy into a crushingly-tight hug. Jeremy could feel tense breath against his shoulder, feel Gavin shaking.

“You scared me,” he mumbled. His hand fumbled with the back of Jeremy’s shirt, as though afraid to let him go. “Th-thought we were about to lose you.”

Jeremy let out a reluctant breath. He rubbed his hand over Gavin’s back. Despite his efforts, his voice came out rough.

“I’m fine, okay? You scared me too.”

Reluctantly, Gavin pulled back. Michael’s hand pressed against Jeremy’s shoulder again, but this time it was gentle. His voice was strangely soft. 

“You okay, lil’ J?”

Jeremy tried to steady his breath. Anger was a heartbeat in his throat, as though it could choke out the fear if it squeezed hard enough. “I-I’m fine. I didn’t get shot.”

“No, I mean…” Michael sighed. “You just killed a guy. Tell me the truth: you’ve never done that before, have you?”

… Oh.

Jeremy’s gaze drifted to the back window where a limp body was dangling over the sill. A pool of blood was growing beneath it, dripping from a head wound. There was a wet hole where Jeremy’s bullet had shattered bone and rendered brain. One little squeeze of a trigger, and he’d done that.

…Oh…

The rush started in his stomach and washed up through his chest, hot and dizzy. It felt like he was about to either come or vomit and he wasn’t sure which—

Suddenly he was very sure which.

Jeremy buckled over as his stomach reeled and emptied itself. The beer didn’t taste as good coming back up.

“H-h-holy shit—“ Jeremy could barely rasp the words through his acid-burned throat. His hands were shaking uncontrollably on his wobbly knees. “Oh my g-god it feels like I chugged a whole bottle of vodka—“

Michael’s hand rubbed over his back. “It’s gonna be okay, it always feels weird the first time.”

“I-I don’t regret it,” Jeremy insisted. “I’d do it again. J-just because I’m throwing up doesn’t mean I regret it.”

“We know, buddy.”

With one more shaky breath, Jeremy wiped his mouth off. Gavin’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and Jeremy leaned into it gratefully. With Gavin’s help, he stumbled out of the ruined gas station, away from the body and the splatter of vomit.

There were more bodies scattered on the lot outside. Jeremy tried not to look at them, because every time he did, a panicky swell of excitement tingled in his stomach, as though to promise that it could supply more vomit it if really tried.

“Hey, Jeremy.” Gavin gave him a weak squeeze. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Something resembling a laugh quivered out of Jeremy. “N-no hard feelings, Gav. I mean, I get it, I probably would’ve punched you if you tried to take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah but that’s—“ Gavin shut his mouth. He squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder again. “I just shouldn’t’ve yelled. M’sorry.”

“We need to get him back to HQ.” Michael’s sharp eyes were scanning the rubble. “There might be more coming.”

With a swallow, Jeremy pulled himself away from Gavin. “I-I think I can walk. Thanks.” His gaze lifted to the car that they’d parked on the outskirts of the lot. “…Is our ride okay?”

Michael tilted his head towards it. “Gav, check the car, would you?”

With a nod, Gavin strolled away. Michael stepped towards Jeremy and placed a hand on his shoulder, tugging him close.

“Hey. Thank you.” His voice was hushed. “You were willing to take a bullet for Gav. He means a lot to me. It’s good to know you’ve got his back.”

“Bloody idiots!” Gavin flung his arms up at the car. “They didn’t even shoot the tires! We can just roll out!”

Jeremy glanced at Gavin, then back to Michael. “I’d do it for any of you.”

“That’s great, but listen.” Michael’s grip tightened. “If you _ever _pull that shit again, I’ll punch you out. Got it?”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “No promises.”

Michael’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t respond. He pushed past Jeremy and stalked to the car.

“Come on. We’ve gotta get home and tell Geoff about this.”


End file.
